


In The Woods Somewhere

by RaiBread



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-09 08:36:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18913384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaiBread/pseuds/RaiBread
Summary: A prequel to my D&D game, following my drow spore druid as they awaken from a hundred year slumber with no memory of who or what they are, and in later chapters will follow them as they learn how to survive in the wilderness, and remember how to be a person.





	In The Woods Somewhere

**Author's Note:**

> I am extremely new to this, so if there are any tags you think would apply to this, or if you have any suggestions, please let me know!

_warm... soft... damp...  
_  
_what is this? what am... i? we? us? together? hello?  
_  
_...  
_  
_warm... soft... damp...  
_  
_was it always like this?  
_  
_no...  
_  
_what was it before?  
_  
_hot? wet? pain? pain. hurt. help...  
_  
_...  
_  
_warm... soft... what is so soft? where are we? hello?_  
  
In a small cave beneath a large tree, a creature stirs to life, or maybe back to life? It opens its mouth, only to find it filled with something soft. It is completely surrounded, practically encased, in something soft.

_what is this? where are we? what are we? hello?_

Whole families of mice and other such vermin flee the soft, warm, damp cave as the giant previously slumbering within wrestles with the contents of its bed, or maybe tomb? Several suffocating minutes pass before finally something emerges. A creature's head pokes out of what it can now see is hair. Not just hair. Its hair! It's been practically cocooned in yards, maybe miles of its own white hair.  
  
Wide, yellow eyes with large, black pupils scan the interior of the cave, but there is not a lot to be seen. Hair, more hair, dark damp earth... and mushrooms. So many mushrooms. Mushrooms covering every inch of the cave, even growing on and in the hair. The creature struggles, wrenches one charcoal black arm free of the nest of hair, to see that it too is sprouting mushrooms of different shapes, sizes, and colors.

  
Hours pass, hours of struggling, sweating, crying out for help in only animalistic noises, before the creature finds its body free of the nest of hair, and it sees before it a light. An escape. It crawls forward toward the light, barely able to keep its eyes open to see it. They hurt, and it is tempted to retreat back into the hair, but some need urges it onward. It pulls, and drags, the weight of the nest it is still attached to threatened to suck it back, but finally it touches the light.

 _freedom... freedom... out... hello?_  
  
A thin black hand emerges in a sudden, jerky motion from the cave, long jagged nails clawing at the damp earth. Another, and soon the entire creature drags itself up and out of its cave. It stands on stick-thin legs, its emaciated body scarcely draped in shreds of rotting fabric. It raises a bony hand to shield its eyes, squinted painfully in the sunlight filtering through leaves. It takes a step, and falls, the nest of hair still pulling it down. It has not yet escaped.  
  
It crawls, pulls, struggles, cries out in more feral noises. Finally it spots something: A jagged rock, possibly sharp? Draping its hair over a rather large exposed root, pulling the strands taut it brings down the stone, again and again, chopping, sawing, cutting away at the tether of hair keeping it bound to this place until... With a final slice of rock through hair, the creature tumbles backwards, the tension that was keeping it upright suddenly gone.  
  
It stands again, hesitantly, takes a step and tumbles forward. It tries again, this time adjusting for the lack of weight pulling it back. One step, then another, and they are moving forward. They step into a patch of warm sunlight... and cower back. It hurts. It hurts. They shuffle back, lose their balance and fall again. It hurts. Despite its newfound freedom it scurries back into the cave, back into the nest of hair, and it waits...


End file.
